


A Luxury, few can Afford

by Cazp



Series: DIY your Freeman [3]
Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Aftercare, Brief mentions of surgery and character death (avoided), Collars, Consensual, Crying, Demon AU, Demon/Human Relationships, Fucking Machines, Leashes, M/M, Master/Pet, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Petplay, Rope Bondage, Safewords, Spreader Bars, Vibrator, some mind reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28644942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cazp/pseuds/Cazp
Summary: Gordon lives a life of luxury as the favorite plaything of a powerful demon.He’s also bored as hell.(This happens before the last two fics in this series)
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Series: DIY your Freeman [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085963
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	A Luxury, few can Afford

**Author's Note:**

> new ACCOUNT same BITCH. This happens before the last two fics but it’s still helpful to read them. Get all your FACTS. 
> 
> NO MINORS. DONT SEND TO ANYONE WHO DOESNT WANNA SEE IT. THIS FIC HAS SO MUCH P*NIS, MAN.

Gordon’s days are easy. 

He wakes up and untangles himself from whatever mass of limbs Binya has him wrapped in. He’s never sure what time it is, and at first that was disorienting but not having a clock soon became a source of relief. No alarms. Nothing to get to. Always waking up well rested. Really a life of luxury. 

He goes to the kitchen to get breakfast. Binya made a whole house for him. Sometimes rooms get mixed around. 

“You’re my sims, baby-yy!” Binya once said when pressed. Fair enough, really.

Gordon can cook. Gordon  _ likes  _ to cook. When he was first offered the deal, his life in exchange for eternal servitude, he expected that he’d be cooking and cleaning and all that “servitude” stuff for the rest of his life. Instead he’s basically just chilling. He can cook if he wants to. Or he can ask for food from Binya and it will appear before him, floating and rotating slowly like a video game item. (Binya does that on purpose, Gordon just knows it.) Sometimes one of Binya’s skeleton “golems” will be in there, cooking, and Gordon will have some, to be polite. 

After breakfast, he heads to the living room. Some days he plays video games with Binya’s Human-Sona, Benry. Other days Binya will be there waiting for him, in his confusing larger form, and riles Gordon up until he’s begging to be fucked. 

Binya hasn’t fucked Gordon himself. The risk to his human body is too great. So, usually, Gordon fucks himself on his fingers while Binya hums soft praises. Either that or one of the skeletons will fuck him with one of his toys.

Every time Binya cups Gordon’s face in warm tendrils or hands when he comes. He reminds Gordon how much better it could be, how he could truly take his Master, how much more he could do to please his Master, if only Gordon would let himself get turned, lose his human body. Every time, Gordon has declined. 

He’s not ready yet. 

Lunch is always Binya’s choice. Sometimes the food is weird, unidentifiable. Binya always calls the food  _ local delicacies  _ but honestly it just seems like an excuse to get Gordon to eat weird stuff. Other times, it’s really suspiciously normal. Hot pockets. Chicken tenders. Sandwich. 

Gordon sits at his dining room table and lets Binya feed him. It’s, honestly, mortifying. No matter how many times he does it, it’s still mortifying. 

How is he supposed to deal, anyway? A big bad demon built for killing and guarding and being intimidating is holding a dorito up to his mouth, soft smiles on each of his many mouths. How is he supposed to handle that at all? The answer is right in front of him, really. He just has to open his mouth. Let Binya take care of him. 

After lunch, it’s Gordon’s time. It’s something he’s insisted on since the start of their arrangement, along with the daily routines. He gets his Gordon Time. Binya can watch, hang out, and sometimes does, but usually he gives Gordon his space, chilling in the living room as his humansona.

Gordon uses the time to read. Or build little things with his hands. Some days he’ll rearrange the whole house, moving furniture while Benry sits on the floor, gleefully watching Gordon arrange everything to perfection. Usually he takes some time to work out. If he works out in the living room, Benry will hoot and holler about his thighs or ass or arms. Other days he doesn’t feel like doing any of it, and will sit in his room and play Kane and Lynch 2: Dog Days. Again. 

Sometimes he pretends to stream, living out the version of his life that could’ve been. Really, it was a series of coincidences that got him here. 

He got assigned to the MIT dorm that happened to have a demon playing security guard for shits and giggles. 

He happened to bump into that security guard just a little too much. At first, Benry was an annoyance. Then, part of his routine. Then an acquaintance. Then an acquaintance he kissed sometimes. And shared feelings with. And went on dates with. A partner in everything but name. 

It could’ve been any one of the dozens of interns who were in the lab that day, too. The fact that Gordon ended up in the accident was a coincidence. 

A few days of painkillers, woozy conversations with doctors, talk of surgeries and insurance and his chances. Chances of being able to fully recover. Chances of damage to his arms, his legs, his head. Chances of never waking up after the surgery. 

Benry asks the question during a rare moment where Gordon isn’t high as a kite. 

“Can I save you?” 

He phrased it like that. That simple. Like it was all that simple. Gordon smiled. 

“I wish you could. I never even finished my doctorate.” 

Benry looked a bit surprised at that. 

“I’m serious. Real shit, Gordo. I can uh. Would you want to? Give me your uh. Share the rest of your time with me, and I can make it like the lab never fucked ya up?”

Gordon didn’t say anything, just stared. 

Benry fidgeted with his hands, uncomfortable. “Forget it. Sorry.” 

Gordon reached out with his good hand and stopped Benry’s fidgeting. Benry looked up, and Gordon gave as serious a face as he could muster. “I don’t know why you’re all sappy and serious all of a sudden but… honestly, sure. What’s the idea? You wanna get married? Gonna fly me down to Vegas?” 

Benry smiled at that, and shrugged. “Not quite what I was thinkin. But sure.” 

It took three more days to convince Gordon that Benry really wasn’t human, write out all the details of their contract, and get everything in order. 

In the end, they did officiate their contract in Vegas. Benry fixed Gordon up and smuggled him out of the hospital. 

A kiss in a one-hour marriage parlor was the last time Gordon Freeman was ever seen, with a man that, according to all records, never even existed. 

Wrong-ish place at the wrong-ish time. That’s what brought him to a beautiful house and a void that sprawled out in front of him, as endless as his own life, if he decides to let Binya shift his DNA around. 

He might even get around to playing the first Kane and Lynch game one of these days. 

Gordon’s alone time is never cut short, he usually just gets bored enough or hungry enough to walk back up to Benry to talk about dinner. Binya doesn’t eat the same food as Gordon, doesn’t have to, but likes to share dinnertime with him anyway. It’s always Gordon’s choice, whisked in, hot and fresh and cooked perfectly. He’s never once asked where it came from. Binya, Benry, neither of them can cook. Both have tried, it always goes so, so bad. 

After dinner is “walkies”. Binya’s word for it. It’s just a fucking walk. Binya is always big and bug-like, giving himself room to stretch out a bit. Gordon is always collared, and usually Binya will hold Gordon’s hand or arm or… something. It’s almost romantic. 

Leaving the house is always weird. The world outside the front door is even less defined than the one inside. Sometimes Binya will create a park that looks like a bad low poly 3D model, complete with crap loading times. Other days they’ll just walk through the nothingness. 

Calling it “Nothing” isn’t really fair. There’s a floor as black as the horizon. Usually there are wisps of blue smoke trailing along the ground, curling around Gordon’s ankles, and avoiding Binya like the wrong side of a magnet. All around, soft-looking grey forms pass from one side to the other. Only once did Gordon see a form that looked sharp. Distinctly shaped like a person. It ran, faster than any of the wispy forms, sprinting across. 

_ “Watch this”  _ Binya said “ _ That guy doesn’t have his passport.”  _

Gordon watched as Binya’s form got bigger. Bigger. More arms. Hard shells breaking away from his body to allow more mouths, more long, snaking tendrils to sprout free. Gordon stood rooted to the spot. 

The person-shaped grey form seemed to spot Binya and tried to go faster, but it was too late. Binya caught it, holding it in a ball of tendrils and hands. Binya’s form curled around his prize as orange and green lights danced around him. He held the grey person and turned to Gordon again. 

“ _ What do you think, pet? Wanna keep it?”  _

“No.” Gordon said. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to deal with it. 

“ _ Ah. Not your lucky day then, friend. _ ” Binya said, facing the ball of hands and tendrils. Green and blue lights glowed brighter as Binya held the ball up, over his mouth. All at once he let go, unwinding fingers and hands and tendrils. The form screeched as it fell into Binya’s mouth until it went silent with a definitive crunch. 

Gordon asked to go home after that, then asked to never have to see that again. Binya apologized and agreed. 

After their walk, Binya always insists on a bath. Gordon has tried again and again to explain that hair can’t be washed every day and that he can wash himself, he did it himself for the  _ vast _ majority of his life he can do it now thank you very much, but Binya always insists and it’s heart-achingly hard to say no to that. Not to mention it’s, honestly, really nice. 

The water always stays warm in the bath, which is sometimes a jacuzzi, sometimes not, and very rarely is shaped like a normal bathtub. Binya’s favorite seems to be the one shaped like a glass ball that’s suspended from the ceiling. It gets half-filled with water and has an opening on either side to get in and out. Gordon hates that one. It makes him feel like he’s in a succulent planter. 

The bath has been shaped like a leaf, a heart, a cereal bowl, a hammock, once seemed to just be a whole fucking lake that Binya decided to call a bathtub, and Gordon’s personal favorite, a tub that was basically a lounge chair on the bottom. Luxurious. 

Sometimes Binya asks to wash Gordon. His long, careful tendrils massaging out any tension while he washes his pretty pet. Binya might also slip into his Benry form and get in with Gordon, kissing his cheeks and neck and chest while he tries to get clean. Sometimes Binya will just watch, talking to Gordon and trying to get a rise out of him. Sometimes he’s not there at all, save for an eye to make sure Gordon is alright. 

And after that, Gordon goes to bed. 

The bed doesn’t change as much as the rest of the house does. It’s always big and round with too many pillows. Soft sheets, a comforter, a weighted blanket, and Binya, holding him and keeping him warm. Anything and everything Gordon could want. 

Gordon’s days are easy. But they’re starting to get boring. 

He gets up. He gets a pop tart and doesn’t toast it, eats it in as few bites as possible, and leaves the other one on the counter. He walks into the living room. Routine, routine, routine. 

Binya is on the couch, he’s holding two controllers and playing Tetris against himself. He’s losing both games. Gordon is about to flop onto the couch when it pops out of existence, being replaced by a recliner that Binya is taking up.

“Haha” Binya says “Looks like all the seats are taken, bro. You gotta uh. Gotta share with me. It’s not gay long as you kiss me, with tongue.” 

Gordon can’t help himself, he laughs a bit at that and clambers into Binya’s lap. Binny loosely holds him against his chest with an arm while a tendril cards through his long hair. Binya keeps playing the game. 

“Whas’ wrong, hot stuff” Binya says after a few minutes, “My cute lil’ pet is so quiet today.” 

Gordon hums. “Bored. Throw a pumpkin in my enclosure or something. I need enrichment.” 

A pumpkin falls into Gordon’s lap. He holds it for a moment before chucking it onto the ground where it cracks and splatters. A few moments later the floor swallows up the mess and becomes clean hardwood again. 

Binya pauses his game. “Are you… did that enrich you.” 

“No.” 

Binya laughs and bright yellow lights appear all around. Gordon can’t help but smile, too. More of Binya’s hands appear, petting Gordon’s back and head and face. The controllers are dropped onto the floor. 

“I’ve got some ideas” Binya says, ghosting fingers along the back of Gordon’s neck, “If you wanna- uh- indulge your Master.” 

Gordon laughs and pushes Binya’s arm off his lap, then shifts himself so he’s straddling Binya. Tentatively, tendrils reach to continue petting his back. Gordon’s hands trail down Binya’s body. 

Binya isn’t human and doesn’t even try to look like one. Thick, rigid plates cover his body. Each one is a deep iridescent blue that’s smooth to the touch, with two or three rougher white ridges on each plate. From a distance, the ridges look like bones, a giant rib cage. The arms and legs attached to his body have two sections, a short, thick top section and a long, thin bottom section. His head floats above his body. Two large eyes take up most of his head, with three smaller eyes between them and a set of pincers below that to serve as his mouth. He has two long antennae that sprout from between his two large eyes. A blue-black shadow follows him around to serve as whatever other body parts he may want. Long, warm tendrils. Hands. Dozens and dozens of eyes. A mouth full of sharp teeth. The possibilities are endless. 

The terror, of course, wears off after a bit. As does the awe. 

The humor hasn’t worn off. Gordon is fully aware he’s the pet of a giant rolly-polly. Revenge from all the rolly pollys he caught in jars as a kid. 

Giant rolly polly with pretty tendrils that are warm against Gordon’s back. He hums his appreciation and presses kisses to the ridges of every plate he can reach. 

“So,” Binya says, “is that a yes?” 

Gordon stops what he’s doing. “Yes to what? I thought we were gonna do…” he gestures vaguely, “whatever this is.” 

“We ca-a-an,” Binya sing-songs, “Or we can try somethin’ new out. Get a lil’ freeeak-ayyy.” 

“Alright, sure” Gordon says with a shrug. “What is it?” 




Gordon’s hands are tied together, wrist to wrist, and held above his head with a rope hooked to the ceiling. The rope criss crosses between his arms and finishes in a simple harness with a knot right over his heart. He’s naked, kneeling on a cushion on the floor. There’s a spreader bar secured just above his knees. 

Benry stands in front of him, all human-shaped. He looks down at Gordon with a soft smile, not looking at his eyes, but watching his own thumb as it slides in and out of Gordon’s lips. Gordon whines softly, earning him a few taps on his cheek from Benry’s free hand. His dick twitches. 

“Don’t wiggle, pet. Gotta let the skelly finish his job. You’re doin’ so good, lookit you…” Benry coos. 

The skeleton in question is behind Gordon, where he can’t see, but he can feel. It’s working him open using his smaller toys and plenty of lube. They talked about it, Gordon knew that the golem was going to be prepping him, but he didn’t expect it to take so long. He tries to voice this by lapping at the pad of Benry’s thumb. 

Benry pulls his thumb out of Gordon’s mouth and wipes the spit on his beard. 

“Come on, Be-nry-y“ Gordon whispers, the name broken by a particularly hard movement behind him. “I’m ready- I- Please-“ 

It’s been so long. Gordon pushes back as well as he can with the restraints but the skeleton just pulls the toys away and waits for him to move back. Gordon looks up at Benry, his eyes pleading. 

Benry is smiling. Never good. “Aww- pretty little thing.” He says, giving Gordon a pat on the cheek and walking around him. Gordon strains his neck to look but all too soon Benry is out of his range of vision. Benry keeps talking behind him. “Mmm… I dunno. Your little hole… too tight to take anything, I think. My friend and I just wanna help you out. Jus’ wanna loosen you up. Don’cha wanna be able to take my cock one day? You can’t like this.” 

Gordon can hear Benry tap his nail on the skeleton and suddenly there’s a bigger toy inside of him. He moans freely, until he feels Benry’s hot breath on the back of his ear, choking up immediately. “Please, Master,” Gordon begs, “Please…” 

“No-o-o.” Benry says, mocking Gordon’s moans. “Shush a bit, maybe? Shhh quiet? Take what you have? So greedy.” 

The larger toy pumps in and out of Gordon’s hole with slick noises. It brushes against his prostate, a tease, nothing more. “Please!” Gordon says again, louder this time, “Benrey- Binya- please-“ 

He’s cut off when Benry is suddenly in front of him, grabbing his chin. Gordon knew what was coming, they talked through most of the scene, but the suddenness still knocks the breath out of him. His dick aches between his legs.

“You. Are a rude little pet, aren’t ya?” Benry says. “So, so rude to your kind master. Say it.” 

Gordon takes a shuddering breath in. “No. I won’t. I won’t.” 

Benry grabs a fist full of his hair, pulling slightly and making Gordon fall silent. His other hand goes to Gordon’s chin, gripping his jaw. Benry opens and closes Gordon’s mouth, over and over. “I’m a rude little pet,” Benry says in a bad falsetto. “I’m rude to my kind kind master and I deserve to be so so punished.” 

Gordon shakes his head out of Benry’s grip. The skeleton keeps thrusting the toy. In and out. In and out. “I won’t say it.” It’s honestly hard to say no. Even though it’s part of the scene, Gordon wants to say yes, be a good little pet for Benry, but he steels himself. 

“Fine.” Benry says, patting Gordon on the head. He turns around and walks to the chair. He sits with his knees spread, palming openly at his dick through his sweatpants. “You wanna get fucked so bad? Wanna get fucked so bad you’re gonna be rude? Fine. Let’s see how long you wanna be uh- a little rude… boy.” his voice falters at the end and his eyebrows knit together with concern. “Hey, you okay?” He says, his voice suddenly soft. “All sorts of stuff goin’ through your head-brain.” 

The skeleton stops thrusting the toy. Gordon is confused for a moment before his brain catches up. “What? Yeah, I’m fine. I just uh… wanted to check uh- what’d you switch up in my body?” It’s hard to get all the words out, Gordon wants to fuck himself hard on the toy and come without any of these complications. 

“Buffed your cock. No cool down. Uh. Is that the word? You can come hella now as long as we water you. Yeah? And skelly will bring you water. All ok? Is that all the questions? Yes? You’ve still got your safeword?” 

Gordon nods and the skeleton starts thrusting the toy again. He chokes on a whine. 

“Good.” Benry says, his voice low again. “Gonna get you dicked down hands-free, pet.”

The skeleton behind Gordon pulls the toy out. It reaches around to stroke its bony fingers up Gordon’s cock, which twitches and leaks onto the cushion. Gordon squeezes his eyes shut as the fingers start doing something else, deftly securing a vibrator to the base of his cock. He whines a bit and tries to buck against the skeleton’s hand, but it moves away too fast. 

He looks up at Benry who is lounging back in his chair, eyes fixed on Gordon’s cock. Gordon wants to squeeze his legs together in shame but the spreader bar stops him fast. Benry laughs. 

“Wow, showin’ off for Benny? Gonna show your whole meat to Benny? What a good little pet.” 

Gordon squeezes his eyes shut when his dick twitches hard in response to the praise. Benry laughs again. 

Gordon is about to give some biting comment about how a vibrator that isn’t even on won’t make him cum his shame out, when he feels something cold and slick poking at his hole. He breathes in and does his best to relax. Let it in. 

Slowly, the tip of the toy slides into place. Gordon squeezes around it. It’s… big. Seems to be shaped normal enough, with a few ridges he can feel pressing into his walls. Once he’s gotten used to the thickness he gives a small nod. He looks at Benry. 

Benry snaps his fingers with his free hand. The vibrator whirrs to life as the toy slides in slowly with a few mechanical clicks. The vibrator and a fucking-machine work him in tandem. He clenches his hands into fists and whines, his hips moving in small circular motions that do nothing but jostle the toy inside him a bit. 

The vibrator’s pulses start out slow but slowly get faster. These can’t be normal machines, they fuck him too well, the perfect speed, the perfect size, only going in as far as he can take. He does his best to voice this. It comes out cracked and whiny. 

Benry moans shamelessly and moves his hand faster over the bulge in his pants. “Gordon-“ he says in a low voice- “You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now.” 

Gordon makes a choked noise as he comes, shooting ropes of cum onto the cushion with some falling on the hardwood. 

“Wow,” Benry says, his voice gone soft, his domineering persona forgotten, “That was a good one. Do you feel good, pet?” 

Gordon tries to answer but the words get stuck. The machine and the vibrator are still going, slower now but still so much immediately after his orgasm. His dick is soft but is quickly hardening as the vibrator and the toy work him. 

Benry slides his hand into his own pants and laughs, his smile is dark and mocking. “Poor, poor thing can’t even talk. I gotta take care of ‘im.” 

Behind him, Gordon can hear the skeleton’s feet against the hardwood, walking away from him. 

Gordon shifts his hips and suddenly the toy is slamming exactly against his prostate. It’s too much. He tries to wiggle to make it move but it’s no use. He whines loudly. “Ben- Benny please it’s so much- I just came I can’t-“ 

“You can.” Benny says. 

Gordon starts to tear up. It’s so much. Even as his eyesight is blurry with tears he can see his master working his cock hard. He’s never seen his master this affected before. That just adds to everything. Too much, too much. His cock is hard, the vibrator is going fast, and the toy in his ass keeps hitting his prostate hard, pushing him closer and closer again. 

Tears start to fall down his face as he squeezes his eyes shut. He whimpers, and over his own noises and the noises of the machine and the vibe he can hear his master groaning loudly, the sound of shifting fabric getting faster. 

His wrists are almost sore as he pulls against his ropes. It’s too much. Tears roll down his cheeks, his nose is running, and he can’t help but rock back on the toy fucking him open. If he can just cum, if he can just cum. 

The vibrator kicks up several notches and Gordon is straining against the bar again. Gotta close his legs, give himself some warmth against his cock. The tears fall faster. He’s so close already, the knot in his stomach is growing tight. He makes a loud, needy noise and tries to open his eyes again. 

Benry is staring right at him, rocking hard into his hand, mouth open slightly. His face is stark red, his breaths are heavy. Yellow and purple and blue lights dance around his body as he jerks off. When they meet eyes, Benry groans and rocks hard into his hand. He stays like that, wide eyed and open mouthed, for a few moments before falling limp in his chair, smiling softly at Gordon. There’s a wet spot on his sweatpants. 

When Gordon’s brain catches up to what just happened it tips him over the edge. He jerks hard against the ropes and pushes back against the toy once, twice, before he’s coming again, splashing more cum on the pillow and hardwood. The toy and vibe work him through his orgasm. Right as it’s about to be too much again, the vibe slows to a very slight hum and the toy buries itself in his ass before coming to a stop, only barely missing his prostate again. Gordon’s thighs tense, scared to shift his hips in case the toy decides to move. 

“Cum is weird.” Benry says, shifting in his seat. “Like yea I’ve got wet stuff in me normally, but what even is this.” He gestures vaguely to his pants. In the blink of an eye the wet spot disappears. “I just transported that to your stomach. No need to thank me.” 

Gordon bites back a laugh. “Man, I know you didn’t, but just for the record please don’t teleport stuff into my gu-“ 

“Shush.” Benry says. “You talk so much. I think you should just hang out a bit. Be nice and quiet for a while, okay?” 

Gordon’s tongue peeks out to lick his lips. He nods. 

Benry smiles. “Such a good boy. Good pet. Do you want some water?” 

Gordon nods again. The sound of the golem’s footsteps return. It holds a twisty blue silly straw up to Gordon’s mouth. Gordon obediently takes a couple sips before turning back to look at his master. 

Benry, the jerk, has his PSP out. Gordon glares at him while the golem wipes the dried tears and snot from his face. Gordon keeps glaring and tries not to react when the golem slowly pulls the toy out of Gordon’s ass. It’s quiet except for the sound of Benry hitting buttons and the skeleton squeezing more lube onto the toy. 

Gordon whines when the toy slips easily into place and starts fucking him again, the vibrator humming to life at the same time. In response, Benry turns up the volume on his game. It’s fine. This is fine. 




Gordon comes three more times before Benry even looks at him, and even then it’s just to tell his golem to replace the toy with a smaller one and remove the vibrator. Gordon whines but he’s not sure if it’s out of protest or relief. His master ignores him. 

It’s hard to get off with the small toy and no vibe. No matter how he shifts, the toy barely even brushes his prostate, just teasing him. Gordon’s arms and legs aren’t too sore, probably thanks to his master’s influence. The idea that his Master is looking out for him sparks something in Gordon’s chest despite himself. He rocks fruitlessly against the toy fucking him steadily. He wants to come, wants to show his Master that he can be good, he can be a good boy and get off with whatever his Master wants to give him, but it’s an effort in vain. Without anything on his dick and the toy barely brushing his prostate all Gordon gets is the warm stretch of the toy pushing in and out. 

He stays like that for a while longer while his master plays his game. A good boy. Going to sit quietly and not be disruptive and try so hard to get off. Ten, twenty minutes. Gordon can’t think. He’s startled when he realizes his master is kneeling in front of him. 

“Hi.” Benry says. “Your head’s empty.” 

Gordon nods. It is. It is empty. Is this what his master wants? For him to be empty? He nods again. 

Benry laughs softly. “Feel good? Does my good pet feel good?” 

He nods again. It does feel good. He feels warm and safe, especially now that his master is looking at him, paying attention to him. He does want to come. He shifts his knees a bit. 

His master runs fingers down the ropes that cross over Gordon’s arms and then back up to hold one of his hands. “Do you want me to get you off? You’ve been so good. Only one more. Last one? Do you want to? You can speak, pretty pet. Tell me what you want.” 

Gordon licks his lips. He nods again. “Please help me come, master. Please. Am I… Was I good?” 

His master smiles and presses a kiss to his cheek. Gordon realizes that there are tears on his cheeks again. He squeezes his eyes shut. His master keeps kissing him, kissing his cheeks, his shoulders, his bicep, just between where the rope loops around him. 

Tentatively, a hand wraps around Gordon’s cock. Immediately, Gordon whines. He doesn’t know what he’s saying, pleas and whimpers coming out as a jumbled mess. His master is so warm, so close. Gordon squeezes his master’s hand as hard as he can. His master squeezes back. The hand on Gordon’s cock pumps him quickly, swiping a finger over the tip where precum has been gathering and spreading it up and down. It’s perfect. It’s just what he needed. His master’s voice mutters nonsense in his ear. 

His master, his Benry, his Binya, his. 

Gordon is overwhelmed, almost. Something so much bigger, so much more than Gordon can ever be, is showering him in warm, tender attention. A being powerful enough to create a whole world built one just for him. It’s intoxicating.

Gordon chokes on a cry as the feeling low in his stomach tightens.

“M- Master Binya- my Master- I’m uh- I’m gonna-“ 

“Yea?” His Master says between kisses. “Go on. Go for the gold. Home run. Come. Just one more time.” 

Gordon arches his back as he comes on his master’s hand. His Master dutifully jerks him off through the orgasm but stops when he’s fully soft, just before it becomes too much. So perfect. 

“Thank you…” Gordon mutters. It feels good to say so he says it again, and again, and again. He slumps against his bindings. 

Benry wipes his messy hand on Gordon’s thigh and squeezes with his other hand. He stands up, dusts himself off, before quickly undoing the ties around Gordon’s chest. Once the harness is undone, Benry works quickly to undo the ties on his arms. 

Gordon knows Binya can just pop away all the bindings at once but he appreciates the way his master runs warm fingers over the red spots where the rope pressed against his skin. The way he presses kisses to the tender parts of Gordon’s body. His biceps, the inside of his elbows, the inside of his forearm, his wrists. Once his arms are freed, Binya carefully wraps warm tendrils around Gordon’s body to lift him up and set him down on the recliner. 

Gordon stretches his arms, moving them finally for the first time in a few hours. Binya kneels between his legs and undoes the thick straps on the spreader bar. 

Gordon isn’t sure when Binya switched back into his buggy form but he appreciates it anyway, running his fingers over one of the antennae that bob near his face. 

Once the bar is taken off and discarded, Binya rubs thick tendrils on Gordon’s thighs, getting rid of any tension that might be left. Gordon hums appreciatively. 

After a few moments Binya looks up at him, yellow and pink lights floating around. “Bath? Clean you up? Maybe also a snack?” 

Gordon nods. “Sure. But you have to carry me. I’m never walking again.” 

“Yess-sii-iir” Binya sing-songs, “I’ll carry you around. Uh. Purse dog. Except in my arms. I could get a Mineman-sized purse.” He mutters, picking Gordon up bridal style and holding him against his body. 

Gordon leans his head on Binya and absently runs fingers over the smooth plates. 

**Author's Note:**

> no twist this time I got lazy and also I’m predictable lmaooo 
> 
> Comment pwease? Should I write Chapter 2: Bathtime OR get back to work on the main storyline (mostly TF from now on) vote NOW on your devices


End file.
